Page 109 of Puck Block

“I feel fine,” I say.

It’s partly a lie. I’m nauseated and weak, but the thought of being wheeled into a CT scan without her sends another line of stress down my spine. The sound of wheels against the tiled floorscratches a memory in the back of my head that I hate to think about.

“Ford.” Taytum sits up and peers down at me with a flushed face. “You need a CT.”

“Do I, though?” I ask with doubt. “My head is perfectly fine.”

She purses her lips. “That’s debatable. Even more so now that you have a concussion.”

The doctor chuckles and doesn’t give me an option to decline. “They’ll be up soon to wheel you in. If it checks out, you’re free to go home with a few precautions for the next couple days.”

Taytum thanks the doctor, and I lie back on the bed, trying to calm myself. The heart monitor beeps like crazy until Taytum snuggles back onto my chest and breathes a sugary sigh in my direction.

“Calm down,” she soothes.

I nod and take a deep breath. My arm tightens under her grip, and I rest my hand on her thigh. The room is quiet except for my heart monitor, but eventually, it slows. The longer she lies here with me, the calmer I become.

This moment proves that she came into my life exactly when I needed her to. Even though she started off as a friend-turned-crush, then turned into my favorite target to tease, and now tothis…I know that she and I have always been something more.

Always.

“Thank you,” I rasp.

She tilts her head to look up at me. “For what? Making you stress about me so much that I distracted you during a game, and you plummeted to the ice?” She is full of sarcasm. “You’re welcome.”

“I’m never going to apologize for caring about you, and I never want you to feel guilty for it either.”

She lays her head back down, and I let my words rest in between us. Her finger starts to draw on my bicep, and I flex it to make her laugh—except, she doesn’t.

“Tay?”

“I get it now.”

“What do you get?” Hopefully how much I love her.

Her forehead creases. “How afraid you must have felt when I ended up in the hospital last summer.” I grab her wobbling chin and ignore the sting of the IV in my arm. “Or how frustrated you were when you found out that I was messing with my insulin. I get it now, and I’m so sorry, Ford.”

“Hey…” I try to stop her from getting too upset. “It’s okay. Stop crying.” I angle her face to mine and press our lips together. She tastes like sugar, and I can’t help but deepen the kiss. I pull away at the sound of my heart monitor going wild and send her a dark look. “See what you do to me?” I ask.

A soft smile falls to her lips.

“And knock it off. There’s only room for one of us to have an emotional breakdown tonight, and if you have one too, we’re both going to end up in the loony bin.”

“At least we’ll be together.” She laughs, but I catch it on her lips and kiss her again because I can’t help it. When we break apart, I decide now is the perfect time to fill her in on my plans to ease her worries over the insulin.

“Plus”—I keep a hold of her face—“I think I found a way to afford–”

Our heads swing to the door, and my smile falls.

Emory stands there, still in his hockey uniform, with sweat dampening his hair. His jaw is tense, and the look he gives me is downright lethal.

“How long?” he snaps.

Taytum locks every one of her muscles. “Em–”

He puts his hand up to stop her all while keeping his glare pinned to me. “How…fucking…long?”

Fuck.

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